


Tasting Much Sweeter Than Wine

by wingedbears



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Baking, Fluff, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedbears/pseuds/wingedbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Solo is on a mission to bake a honey cake.  Poe helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tasting Much Sweeter Than Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [totalnerdatheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalnerdatheart/gifts).



There was little to no need for baking really. Food synthesizers took care of that. Or the large batches of food made by the cafeteria. But there was something about making it by hand. For Ben, it brought a kind of calm that usually only meditation could. The simplicity of following directions, the calmness of waiting, of knowing when was the right time to pull out the custard pie, or even what sort of pan is needed for the pudding. 

Leia grew up sneaking into the kitchens at night and illicitly dipping her fingers in the pies kept in the conservator, so she had little to no knowledge about baking. Han grew up relying on a chef droid. That left Chewie. It was Chewie that taught a young Ben how to cook, what to look for, occasionally calling his wife, Mallatobuck, on the holocall to see if he got this or that right. Before Ben left to go to Jedi training, he would often side step Chewie, who was out on some mission with his dad anyways, to call Mallatobuck. 

That was how Ben learned how to cook. 

The compartment suite his family was alloted would be filled with wonderful warm smells, when it wasn’t filled with yelling. 

Occasionally Poe would come over with his mother to visit the Organa-Solos, and Poe would smell the air, already hungry. 

“Ben made this himself,” Leia would say proudly before setting down a puffcake for dessert. Ben would look down, blushing. Poe took a bite and wondered why anyone would do anything else. Flaky and sweet, and that’s the first taste Poe ever really had of Ben, at the age of eleven. It would only be one year later before Ben left.

But in the meantime, Poe would try to weasel into as many invitations over to the suite as he could while the Organa-Solos were on Yavin. Leia cottoned on early, much to Poe’s dismay, and just invited him over to play with Ben. Poe and Ben agreed they were both too old for play dates, but when Ben pulled down a bowl and forest honey from the pantry, then he was filled with a hunger for food and knowledge. He annoyed Ben to no end with questions. Especially when the Corinthian brandy came out. Poe remembered his eyes becoming wide, his mouth open. Ben just rolled his eyes. “I’m not drinking it,” he said. Then he smiled. “But you can taste it in the cake.”

The end result was a delicious confection that Poe loved to have melt in his mouth.

That was a lifetime ago, Ben thought. He stared at the kitchenette in the compartment and sighed. It’s been ages since he’s even attempted a cake, or just a simple pudding. But to him the simplest thing, at least that he has retained in his memory is a forest honey cake. It’s Chewie’s favorite, and Ben has noticed that while most of his relationships are strained at best, he’s seen all the guilty looks Chewie has given him for accidentally shooting him in the side. To Chewie’s credit, Ben was still unsure and torn about killing Han, but the blast to the side prevented him from making a decision. Han grabbed him under the arms as Ben watched his lightsaber tumble into the abyss. 

And while his mom and dad were obliviously joyous to have him back from the First Order, Chewie was nothing but quiet and sad. He shot his life debt’s son. Ben thought the cake might cover up some of the pains. It was the first thing that Ben had trouble with, the first baking project he was proud of. One he would whip up when angry or sad, or even happy. 

It’s just unfortunate that there’s very little in the pantry. Ben rubbed his face, contemplating the empty cupboards. Getting the spices alone was going to be a pain. He absolutely refused to use the synthesizers for that. Sure, it was built back on a molecular level, but Ben was convinced of a faint metallic flavor to whatever was transported, and he’s not making a cake like that. 

He could send for the spices, but this was a war they were running, not a pastry kitchen. Supply forms hardly have markings for cardamom, or cloves. 

He sighed. Well, there was one thing left. Ask a neighbor.

 

Poe heard the knock on the door, and walked up to press the release button.

Ben Organa-Solo stood there. He had a small and hesitant smile on his face, like maybe he was unsure of how to smile, unsure of how to say hello.

“Hi,” Poe said, filling in the gap. He didn’t know what to say next. You tortured me, but I hear you’re okay now? You broke into my mind, but apparently you give my hero great joy so I should be friends with you? Poe had a hard time seeing Ben there, but was trying. 

Ben ducked his head, and that gave Poe so many memories of when they were young.

“I was wondering if you had any sugar,” Ben said to his feet.

“Um,” Poe said eloquently. He really didn’t know what to do here. Of course, inviting Ben in would be a step. Or giving him the sugar, if he actually wanted it, and Poe thought this might be a strange ploy to see what neighbors Ben had, as if he didn’t already know. “I think so? Come in,” Poe offered.

Poe walked to his small kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets. He didn’t have much, just dinnerware and caf. He was never really the baker of the family. 

Poe turned to tell Ben the sad news, and saw that BB-8 was bumping up against Ben’s long legs and beeping curiously at him.

BB-8 hasn’t made the connection that Ben was Kylo Ren. So Ben was a new face.

“Sorry about BB-8,” Poe said, not thinking. 

“It’s fine,” Ben replied. 

The conversation could not be more stilted. 

“No sugar,” Poe said. He wondered if he should offer to let Ben stay, have the caf that’s sitting on the counter.

“Okay, thanks anyways,” Ben said. He nodded and backed out to the door. “See you around,” Ben added. 

“Yeah of course,” Poe said. And Ben was gone. Poe shut the door and looked at BB-8 and sighed. “That could have gone better,” he said.

 

Ben ran his hands through his hair as he continued down the corridor. What was he thinking, asking Poe Dameron for sugar? Maybe he thought that Poe would welcome him back with open arms, or maybe he thought that they would go right back to how they were as boys, but it seemed that either Poe doesn’t remember, or doesn’t want to remember.

Ben kept going, though, despite the set back, and got most of his ingredients from the pilots on base (they’ve been more places) and promised Pava some of the cake when he was done. He promised a lot of people cake, and so now has to make at least three times as much. He didn’t mind that as much as he minded the silent treatment, or the slamming of doors in his face. 

He gritted his teeth when this happened, but then looked down to his arms where a bundle of spices were. He was being welcomed, just not by everyone. Ben took a steadying breath and walked back to his compartment. It’s almost time for his lessons with Uncle Luke.

 

Meditating was always harder than it needed to be. 

Afterward Ben got up and started prepping. Almost everything was in place, except the key ingredient: forest honey. And the best place to get it was Kashyyyk; Chewie’s home.

That was going to cause some issues, for sure. 

He needed to borrow a ship to get there, or commission a pilot. And on a military base? Near impossible. Ben was damned determined to make this cake, so he posted on the community board: Need ride to Kashyyyk, will pay in credits up front, Ben Solo. And he waited. He was beyond surprised that it’s Poe that answered the ad. Poe shook the flyer at him. “Why didn’t you just ask me?” Poe demanded.

“I need a pilot, not a commander who can barely say two words to me,” Ben drawled. 

Poe’s face scrunched up. “I can say more than two words,” he said. “Look, I’m doing it now. Besides, I’m due some time off.”

Ben gave him a scrutinizing look. “Really,” he said, disbelieving. 

“Come on, I’ve never been to Kashyyyk, and I want to see where this goes. Is this something to do with Chewie’s family?” Poe asked. There is a reason of course as to why Poe was doing this. His crew saw the flyer, and were talking about it in hushed tones. (”Who’s going to give a ride to Ben Solo?” “I’ve heard of some dangerous missions before, but this is next level.” “What does he even want?” “Not enough credits as far as I’m concerned.”) And Poe did the only thing he could do. Shut down the rumors and talk by walking up and taking the flyer down. “I’m flying him,” Poe said, looking at his ashamed crew.

All Poe could think about was Ben’s large form hunched over, humbly asking for sugar, BB-8 bumping into his legs.

Flying Ben Solo couldn’t be that bad. 

 

 

It was that bad. Ben was an interminable backseat pilot, constantly giving directions. “I’m the best,” Poe said, gritting his teeth. 

“Yeah, I’ve never heard that before,” Ben said. 

Poe didn’t ask from whom, because he could guess, what with Ben’s family. Poe punched out of hyperspace and did a belly-roll nose dive down into a swoop entering the atmosphere. 

“Fucking stars, Poe!” Ben shouted angrily. 

Poe just laughed. “The best,” he repeated, definitely not thinking about showing off for Ben Solo.

When they arrived, Ben was almost immediately swept up into a hug by a Wookie.

Ben awkwardly returned the hug. “Hi, Mallatobuck,” he said. Ben pulled back, and said, “Poe, this is Mallatobuck, Chewie’s wife.” She yelled, rubbing Ben’s hair. “Sorry, my friend too,” Ben amended. “Malla, this is my,” and Ben stopped, looking at Poe, because what were they? 

When Poe jumped in, “Friend,” Poe said, and then got swept up in a hug from Malla too.

She led them up the long staircase heading toward her home. Poe and Ben are wishing for transporters by the time they reach the top. They are sitting around the family dinner table with water when Poe finally asked what this was all about. 

“It’s for Chewie,” Ben said. “Forest honey cake is his favorite, and it can’t be made without Kashyyyk’s forest honey, so…” Ben shrugged. 

“So this is all for a cake?” Poe asked. He was watching Malla setting the table for dinner, and Poe was kind of afraid to ask if he can help. He didn’t know what’s rude, and he has to follow Ben’s example. 

“Essentially,” Ben replied. He got up and started helping Malla, and Poe followed to do the same. 

That night Ben and Poe talked on the landing, the wooden rail the only thing between them and a long fall from the trees. 

“What’s so important about the cake, anyway?” Poe asked, a dog with a bone. 

“It’s what Chewie taught me to do, to bake.” Ben ran a hand through his hair. “He’s been feeling guilty since the incident,” Ben’s hand went instinctively to his side where he was shot. “So I thought maybe if I made him this cake, he’d…” Ben stopped. 

“Forgive himself,” Poe finished. Poe’s eyes in the starlight are dark and welcoming, and Ben forced himself to look away.

“Yeah,” Ben said. He didn’t say what was hidden underneath that, that maybe Ben was trying to find a way to forgive himself too. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“So how do we get the honey?” Poe asked, watching the motion, reminded of how when Ben was little his ears would stick out, how Ben would roll his eyes whenever some adult would assure him that he would grow into them.

“That’s the fun part,” Ben said, a soft smile on his face. 

“Can I come?” Poe asked. “I know I’m just the pilot, but-”

“No, of course, please,” Ben said, a little too quickly, he thought.

Poe just smiled, bright in the soft light, shining brighter than anything Ben’s ever seen.

 

The next morning Malla gently roused Poe, a questioning rumble. It’s still dark out, but Malla had caf in her hand, and offered it to Poe. He didn’t have much time to drink it, because Ben came out of his room dressed in his gray tunic, and popped his head in Poe’s room. “Ready?” he asked and Poe rolled out of bed and pulled on his jumpsuit, because that’s far easier than anything else.

Malla, Ben, and Poe walked deep into the forest, the dusk slowly rolling in. The forest was beautiful and smelled of spring, unknown flowers blooming in the morning light, the dew on the crushed grass underneath their feet. As they walk further into the forest, a low humming became louder and louder.

It’s a major hive, bees taking over most of the tree, going up 60 meters, at least. They were still far enough away that the bees do not bother them, but Poe realized that Ben was about to walk up to that and gather honey. 

Poe felt like his chest was tightening, but Ben was pulling out a net and gloves from his pack, and handed Malla a rickety looking contraption. 

“Whatever you do,” Ben told Poe, “don’t panic. Breathe easy.” He pulled on the net over his head, and the gloves on.

Poe nodded. 

Malla and Ben walked towards the hive, leaving Poe behind. Poe watched as Malla turned on the machine which started pouring out smoke and handed it to Ben, and she started walking back to Poe, as Ben kept going toward the buzzing monstrosity. 

Poe felt like his heart has stopped as he watched Ben finally reach the tree, the bees swooping around him. Ben slowly reached into the mass of bees on the tree and pulled out a honeycomb dripping with honey. He placed it in a jar, sealed it, and started his trek back.

Poe watched as Ben walked back and Poe remembered that small ember of love that he had for young Ben, how much he used to feel for him before the end, and he felt it grow and change into something new as he watched Ben walk slowly back, honey and bees all over him.

They flew back to the base, and Ben started to get out all the ingredients, honey included, and began the process of making a cake. Poe was still there, and the smells rising from the oven brought all those memories flooding back. The thought of Ben, small and gangly at eleven, blushing down at his lap.

Poe felt himself warm over.

Chewie was speechless when Ben handed him the cake. Neither of them cried, but it was a close call.

The days pass in a rush, with Poe and Ben seeing each other as much as possible, there was still a universe to save, after all. Soon enough it was Poe’s birthday, and Ben showed up to Poe’s living quarters with cake.  
Poe asked if they could eat it on Yavin under the force tree, and Ben lit up. They went in the x-wing and Poe opened the cover and they rushed over to the tree, its glow bright in the twilight, and the soft warmth and coolness from the Force, and they ate cake in silence, watching the stars through the branches. 

“I remember,” Poe said, drifting in a cloud of good food and sleep.

“Remember what,” Ben said. He turned his head to look at Poe, next to him on the grass. The wind blew softly, rustling the leaves of the tree.

“I remember growing up here, I remember you,” Poe said. “I remember this,” he waved his hand between the two of them. “We’d eat whatever you made and come out here, bellies full, and we would talk. Remember? You didn’t want to go to Jedi training, and I didn’t want you to either.”

“I remember,” Ben breathed, “I remember this.” He let out a stale breath, held for too long. He felt a weight lifted from his body. Ben let the feeling wash over him, relieved and exhausted.

Poe rolled to his side, and propped his head on his hand. “What else do you remember?” he asked.

“I remember the way you laughed, the way you looked at me.”

Poe smiled. “I was half in love with you, you know.”

Ben blinked. “What?” he asked. He felt his chest tighten.

“I mean, you were quiet and kind, and with those ears, who could blame me, you know?” Poe winked.

Ben felt like his heart is going at light speed. Like he couldn’t say anything, couldn’t breathe. “Oh,” he breathed. He wanted to kiss Poe. He wanted to know what that mouth felt like against his, how Poe tasted. Like honey, maybe, or sweeter. Poe was about to roll back onto his back when in a fit of want Ben grabbed Poe’s jumpsuit in his fist and pulled.

Poe tasted like nothing he’s ever had. Like a sweet wine, or the comb of the honey he gathered earlier for Poe’s cake. 

“Oh,” Ben repeated, not knowing what else to say. 

“Wait,” Poe said, striking a note of fear in Ben’s heart. Did he do something wrong?

“You stopped,” Poe said. “Why did you stop? You can’t just-”

But Ben already had his mouth pressed against Poe’s, the taste overwhelming them both.

**Author's Note:**

> This felt really self indulgent, but I hope the receiver enjoys it even more than I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> The title is from the song "Taste of Honey"


End file.
